


First Contact

by PsykoRedHead16



Series: Encounters of the Fourth Kind [1]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 1980s, Alien!Stuart Pot, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Eventual Romance, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29106678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsykoRedHead16/pseuds/PsykoRedHead16
Summary: During the 1980s in the sleepy town of Stoke-on-trent a strange, unidentified ship strikes the Earth, and the life of one man is turned on its head.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot
Series: Encounters of the Fourth Kind [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456942
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

> Finally after a super long time building this AU, I've finally got around to working on and editing the chapters. I've teased enough with random one-shots and spoilers here and there, and if anyone has followed my socials prior, you'll know who Stalien is and know that this is where it all started for them :D

A late Spring breeze caught up the smell of sickly sweet flowers and mingled with a pungent factory smoke, lingering in the air. Murdoc grunted while he walked his usual path, well worn and well known. It turned his stomach, but with distance mitigating the scent he would survive. Plus his cigarette alleviated having to _enjoy_ the thick, nuanced smell of Stoke alone. He flicked the butt away fairly soon after and sighed out the bits of smoke left in his lungs. He quietly tucked his hands into pockets and continued. 

Night was pressing in on Stoke, smothering the surrounding region in a pleasant glow of sparkling stars. It was still light enough from the setting sun that he could make out his path, one he knew by heart. He traveled quietly and casually towards a derelict factory building sitting removed from the town. It was an old forgotten building, dilapidated with weathering and age. It was fenced off, a deterrent to ward off nosy people or stupid young kids, however, Murdoc was neither and chose to ignore it. Approaching the rusted fence he shoved part of it aside to scoot under. 

He stood again and dusted himself off. He gave a quick pat to his pocket to confirm his cigarette carton and matches hadn’t fallen from his pockets. He nodded before heading towards a rickety old ladder attached to the side of the factory. The factory was one of few locations he truly enjoyed coming too. Smells from the central hub of Stoke were muted here and nobody ever bothered exploring the place, perfect for a loner like himself. There was an old smoke stack, half of its structure missing from deterioration. The old brick walls of the building had discoloured from sun bleaching, which he found oddly charming. Not that he would say so out loud, or that he had _anyone_ to tell.

Murdoc grasped the first rung and started to pull himself upwards, eyes scanning the area. The higher he climbed the more tension seeped out. He could see well over the trees the further he went, which made him feel strangely important or special. Reaching the top he smiled partly when he spotted a ratty blanket still laid out against the roof. Cautiously he climbed across the slanted surface and got himself situated atop the blanket. He laid back, knees bent to keep from sliding downwards. For a brief while Murdoc rested into the textured roof in silence. It wasn’t often he had time to concentrate on himself with constantly attempting to find bandmates or dealing with his father’s drunken shenanigans; or his own vices.

He tried to deviate his thoughts before his mind sucked him down into the deep depression he _knew_ was there. The building and him were one and the same, in an odd way. They shared a silent kinship, it was abandoned and lonely much like him, and nobody cared about it anymore. He sighed heavily.

The building belonged to a company which had unfortunately gone under long before his birth. Not that Murdoc cared one way or another. He had silently claimed the place as his own. Given he had traversed the innards more than once, even went so far as sleeping there a few times, it essentially felt like his. It was nice to own something. Nice to enjoy something that nobody cared about or would harm. 

Squeezing his eyes shut he could momentarily forget where he was and who he was. Blinking his eyes open he exhaled, forcing himself to remain calm. His earlier row with his drunken father sat fresh in his mind. The compounded feeling of pain in his head with his nasty and twisted thoughts swirling around did little to alleviate his frustrations. He felt trapped. He eyed the heavens above, poorly drawing his attention elsewhere. Above him the stars twinkled in and out of sight. They were far removed from him and his small existence in Stoke. No matter how hard he tried it all seemed pointless. Nothing worked and no matter how far he ran he always wound back at ground zero, Stoke-on-Trent. His prison. He glared at the specks of light as though they were mocking him. 

He brought a palm up to gingerly prod the bruised flesh around his eye. It only succeeded in making him wince and he sniffed angrily, lowering his hand back to his chest. For a moment he breathed, the only noise he could hear in the night air; though, if he strained, there were the sounds of cars and raucous laughter at a pub in town. He started to get antsy with the near silence and quickly dug into his pocket for the packet of fags he stole. He needed a second nicotine boost to deter the low he was slumping into.

Digging them out he put one between his lips. Striking a couple matches with a grunt of annoyance, he miraculously managed to light the smoke and inhale deeply. He nearly took the cigarette in one go. He exhaled a stream of smoke with another sigh. A soft gust of wind blew it into his face. He coughed and waved his hand as he sat up. Immediate embarrassment struck him and he surreptitiously scanned the area below for onlookers. Given nobody bothered with the forgotten building, his mishap went unnoticed and quickly his mild humiliation fizzled out.

He heaved himself up to lean a lot closer to the edge, only to flick his finished smoke into the murky darkness below. Morbidly he considered pushing off to greet the darkness beyond the ledge. His often intrusive thoughts were his only friend on long nights. The death of a local hoodlum would go unchecked and his body would rot away forgotten. Of this he was certain. Shaking his head he sat back a bit roughly and turned his eyes skyward, trying to quell the ill thoughts.

It was an especially clear night and occasionally certain stars seem brighter than others. It made him feel insignificant, like a dot on a massive canvas on an incomplete painting. He sighed, and firmly tried to shove his feelings of disillusionment away. His life was a constant spiral of ups and downs, where each day brought more frustration than anything. Any money he attempted to save from his crummy retail job went directly to the supposedly necessary rent. Murdoc knew better, his hard earned cash went to booze and cigs. He would be lucky to save a couple pounds to his name, if at all. 

Said bone of contention sparked another dispute between his father and him. He could have saved himself the smarting cheek had he kept his mouth shut. He always saw red though, a bitter side effect of the Niccals’ name; probably, at least his father claimed so. Paying to live in his childhood room was humiliating and demoralizing, he wanted so desperately to leave, but lacked a means. With no real friends, no decent family and nothing to his name he was an utter nobody. With his mood dipping fast, he stared upwards more firmly. 

Someone as capable as himself didn’t need anyone...right?

_Why can’t I get out?_

He scanned the stars, hoping for some cosmic sign that all of this struggle was worth it. That maybe in the end he would get something worth his hardships. 

His eyes caught a flash of light, a shooting star, streaking across the night sky. Despite how idiotic and childish, he closed his eyes. 

_Give me something. Anything. I can’t keep doing this shit._

Exhaling weakly he squeezed his eyes tight and shook his head. He felt absurd. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked for his shooting star. 

Eyes widening, Murdoc shuffled up the roof startled. The shooting star had grown in size and luminosity. He stared transfixed, wondering where the meteorite would hit land. 

A weird pop resounded as a burst of light followed and expanded when the object passed through Earth’s atmosphere. The brightness grew in ferocity as the meteor came hurtling towards Stoke-on-Trent. All other sounds, the wind and faint people, were utterly drowned out by a shrill whistle echoing in the air. 

Suddenly it dawned on him the object was aiming for him, or his general direction, and he was up on a roof. 

“Fuck!” 

Scrambling across the roof, foot sliding a couple times, Murdoc hurried to the ladder. He grasped at the rusted edge of it and hastily swung himself down onto it. For a split second he eyed the uneven deteriorated metal of the ladder and his hands, which were getting highlighted more painfully as the meteor neared ground. Biting his lip he loosely held the metal and pushed off the fifth rung. Palms scraped as he slid down the metal, dropping far too rapidly. Upon hitting ground he yelped as he attempted to absorb his impact and bent his legs only to fall back and wince. The shock ran up his legs, through his knees, and settled painfully in his hips and lower back. He grunted while struggling to his feet, his ankles burning in discomfort. 

The light became increasingly bigger, shoving the darkness away until it was eerily like broad day. Murdoc awkwardly got his legs moving and jogged away from the factory, hoping he would have enough distance when the object hit. The roar of air being disrupted by his shooting star became overwhelming. Murdoc covered his ears and closed his eyes when it hurt to keep them open. He kept moving, half blinded and unable to see much of the trees he was aiming for.

Mere seconds later and it struck the Earth like a bomb, shaking ground and factory alike with sudden violence. Debris flew up from the impact as the factory splintered and cracked under the damage. A wave of incredible force shot out and abruptly he found himself slammed to the ground roughly. There was a moment of terror before hitting dirt. His breath left him in a harsh woosh when he made contact as loose wood, grass, and other debris hit his body. Blurrily he lay in a daze, vision phasing in and out. 

Time seemed to fade at the edges while he regained his senses. He laid there for an indistinct amount of time, recovering. When he finally felt more coherent he shifted awkwardly to push himself up. Taking stock he noted that surprisingly nothing was broken, but surely bruised. Turning his head to look around, he barely made out the rough edges of the impact crater and ragged remains of the building he was priorly sitting on. Through his pain an immediate interest piqued and he shakily forced his body up.

Carefully he pulled himself through fallen piles of metal, brick and wood until he happened upon the massive crater the meteorite created. It encompassed the length of the entire property. Without the light from before Murdoc strained to see through the near darkness. Small pockets of smoldering debris lit the area minimally.

Part of him felt an immense nervous energy building in him at the prospect of something massive sitting in the centre. 

“Space rock probably goes for a lot, right?” Murdoc questioned quietly. He breathed out and tapped at the loose dirt along the ridge of the crater. “This has to be it. This has to be _my_ sign.”

Crouching awkwardly he dug his bloodied fingers into the still warm earth and carefully slid himself into the gaping pit. He shifted and slid his way down the crater wall until on mostly level ground. Patting his hands off he cautiously approached the centre to the best of his knowledge. 

“Finally get out of this backwater town and go big,” he muttered. “No more small town shit for Murdoc Niccals.”

A strange hissing noise emanated from the middle. He paused, body tense as his ears tried to ascertain the sound. It sounded like steam rapidly escaping a container under pressure. He frowned and slowed his approach drastically. 

“Bit odd that,” he commented with a gulp. “Don’t think meteorites do that after impact, right? All the ice and what not ‘supposed to be burnt up already.”

Despite the lack of usable light, Murdoc’s eyes became adjusted the longer he stood there. The outline of the object sitting placidly in the middle of the crater was smooth, long and most certainly not a hunk of space rock. Instantly his heart pounded as flight or fight kicked in. 

“Whoa,” he breathed. “A satellite? What are the odds? Maybe you’re Russian or American. Some sort of espionage thing maybe?” 

Coming up next to the object he felt the heat radiating from its surface. He decided to avoid outright touching it lest he burn himself; his hands were plenty sore enough.

As he wandered the length, eyes squinting to make out details, he became familiar with the overall shape. What he knew of satellites from brief glimpses on television meant this thing didn’t fit the parameters. He halted on the opposite side and rested his knuckles on his hips. He squinted at the object in mild confusion.

“Just what the fuck are you? Oh, something better, _maybe_ you are part of some espionage, which is ridiculous, but who knows.” He rocked on his feet slightly as a ridiculous plan formed. “I wonder how much money I could get for you.”

Unexpectedly blue light filled the space, momentarily blinding him. He stumbled into the dirt wall while shielding his eyes in alarm. A soft hum emitted from the object. It reverberated through his chest and head. Wincing he covered his ears when they began ringing viciously and the forgotten headache came back full force. 

Sudden as it was, the sound and light both tapered until only the glow of blue lingered. Murdoc held his head, eyes trained to the sleek metallic contraption, searching for the source. Nothing obvious was present and eerily he realized the blue glow was reflecting off the metal surface, but not touching, as though it were hovering around the entire thing like a force field.

Beyond the pounding of his heart and cold sweat forming on his face, Murdoc finally understood the wary sensation building in him. The object was too seamless, too sleek and very much not human made. His body pressed tighter to the dirt wall as overwhelming fear replaced his earlier curiosity. 

There was a pop, like opening a can, and he jumped. The metal formed a line, a seam, along the tapered portion. His eyes widened as he watched on, apparently incapable of moving. The line completed its circuit and the part within the border turned black. Although terrified, a small bit of interest hovered at the back of his mind when the black region of the object started to dissolve away into nothingness. He could faintly make out an interior.

A high gasp of shock escaped him when a large hand grabbed at the edge of the opening. Then another hand. His mouth ran dry when a creature heaved itself upwards, standing partially at the mouth of the object. 

It was large and the highlight of blue from the object gave the creature an eerie hue. He could faintly make out multiple limbs and dark hair, though the rest was obscured as the being was turned away from Murdoc. He kept himself melded to the wall of the crater, eyes wide, while the alien moved. It appeared to peer around slightly before wobbling dangerously. He held his breath, body stiff in anticipation of either running or potentially screaming. He wasn’t sure which, but he felt a need to burst somehow. Abruptly the creature wavered and fell from the object in a heap, a leg still caught inside the interior. The sound caused him to jolt and grip at the dirt behind him.  
  


Murdoc stared in astonishment and waited a long minute or more before he realized the alien was not moving. It took him another minute before he peeled himself away from the wall to inch his way nearer to the body, his previous curiosity worming to the forefront of his mind with a vengeance.

It was a slow process, easing his way closer to the collapsed alien, but eventually he was within legs reach. Swallowing his nerves, Murdoc reached with a boot and nudged the body. When the alien made a weak noise he immediately slammed himself to the crater wall yet again.

For a split second, Murdoc thought about running. Forget trying to fight a four armed alien with a head injury. When said extraterrestrial settled once more, Murdoc exhaled. Upon closer inspection he realized the creature had markings and pointed ears. It also had what looked to be oozing injuries along its head and arm. After a long pause he also came to the conclusion that it was either dying or unconscious and probably safe to be around, for now.

Keeping most of his body plastered to the dirt wall, Murdoc reached his foot out again to nudge the pink alien’s head. It was a light bump of his boot to the dark hair.

“Eh— you alive?”

He received no response so he nudged harder.

“You dead?”

When it made no movement or sound he slowly unattached himself from the wall to come closer. Kneeling into soft Earth he shakily stretched a hand out, hovering it over a pinkish shoulder, slowly moving it towards the slender neck. He was never known to think before leaping into danger and that had not changed even now. Murdoc touched the neck softly in an attempt to feel for a pulse. 

There was a bright flash of light in his eyes as his mind felt a rush of thoughts, foreign and in a language he scarcely understood as anything humans spoke. Images of Earth, of blurry alien technology and darkened lands flooded his head. There was an overwhelming sensation of confusion and pain jumbling his mind as he tried to process fleeting imagery. 

Yanking his hand back he flopped onto his behind stunned, panting as he peered at the being. He held his hand to his chest, his heart pounding painfully as he scrambled to comprehend what it was he just experienced. It took a couple seconds of heavy breathing for him to feel semi-normal again.

His voice wobbled as he continued to gawk at the unconscious alien. “What the fuck was that? What the hell are you?”

Aside from the obvious, Murdoc knew he was not to receive an answer. Regardless he felt the need to ask it to the night air. He peered at his hand in the blue light. His palm was covered in cuts and dirt that now filled the bloodied tracks on his skin. All he heard around him was the crackling of smouldering wood and other debris. The whole situation was absolutely mad and he sat trying to come to terms with his situation.

“Someone oughta heard or saw you crash,” Murdoc muttered. He closed his palm to glance at the pink alien. “I imagine someone will come along to inspect, try to claim the prize.”

Other people would come along, for sure Murdoc knew that. He clenched his sore palm and frowned to himself.

“I found you first,” he huffed. “Hell, you practically fell into my lap.”

If he wanted to keep this little discovery to himself he needed to act fast. It was a hair-brained idea, but Murdoc could make it big with possible fame. Maybe he could make an abundance of money from this, there were many potentials for this particular circumstance. It wasn’t every day an alien fell from the sky.

Working back to his feet, Murdoc awkwardly tugged his coat sleeves down, enough to cover his ragged hands. He endeavoured to manoeuvre the creature’s body from the ship, though it was a struggle. The alien weighed more than Murdoc expected being so lanky. He grunted as he scooped under the first set of arms, covered hands digging into armpits, and strained to lift. He managed to get the massive torso lifted enough to start tugging. Gritting his teeth he dug his feet in and pulled the body with as much force humanly possible.

His first attempt ended in him sliding unhelpfully under the alien and falling onto his back. He growled and shoved his way out from under the monstrous body. The second try he wrenched his shoulder oddly and hissed in pain. Despite it, Murdoc refused to give up and on the third go he finally felt the body give. With a triumphant huff he found himself nearly face first in freshly disturbed dirt, arms trapped under the alien. He fought to free his arms and roll the alien over onto its back. He flopped next to the body with a grunt. There was a fine sheen of sweat covering his face from moving the alien.

“Could help yanno.”

It was fruitless to be sour with an unconscious space alien given said alien had no way of responding. Murdoc wondered briefly if it could even talk or if it would ever wake up at all. He also realized he had no idea where to hide said creature.

“Guess I didn’t think that far ahead,” Murdoc sighed. “That and you weigh more than a bag of bricks.”

Rubbing his sweat away with the back of his sleeve, Murdoc got himself up again. He squinted at the divot from the ship crashing and wondered if the trees would be enough cover from nosy people.

“Suppose it never hurts to try.”

Getting his arms under the other’s again, Murdoc fought to drag the alien through the softened dirt towards the wrecked trees. It felt like ages of huffing and sweating, but soon the wreckage was a distant glow of fires and blue. Murdoc clenched his jaw as he fought exhaustion to continue into the cover of trees. He used sheer force of will to keep them moving.

His unconscious luggage barely stirred while he lugged it away from the scene and finally into the trees. Murdoc halted, hearing vehicles pulling up at the side and so hurried to get them under complete cover. He cursed at the enormity of the alien while fighting to move them. 

Once sure they were unseen he lightly settled the lanky form onto the ground amongst some foliage. He crouched to use the branches to bury the alien, keeping it hidden from anyone wandering by, though he doubted anyone would look this far for the creature; or he hoped nobody would.

He wiped at his face as he kneeled next to the large body, struggling to get his breathing under control lest someone actually hear him. He squinted through the trees at the people converging on the crash site. Scooting forward on his knees, Murdoc pushed some branches aside to peer at the sight of men in outfits with a team of people in hazmat type suits. They were far from the regular townies and Murdoc watched intently.

“Looks like more than regulars were watching the skies when you made an entrance.”

Of course he received no acknowledgement from the alien, which he had come to expect. He observed the team converging on the ship with some interest. The hazmat suit people approached it cautiously. He mumbled under his breath noticing someone reaching to touch the ship, “I wouldn’t do that…”

Abruptly a man in a hazmat suit flung back from the ship at a violent rate, slamming into the crater wall and slumping. Unconscious or dead, Murdoc had no idea.

“Yeah, figured that’d happen,” Murdoc muttered. “They’re gonna figure out how to move it, sucks for you buddy. Looks like you and me are gonna be _real_ good friends.”

Murdoc snickered as he leaned back from the trees a moment to sit in the dirt. He eyed the alien, straining to make out it’s form. Aside from the faint outline of a body breathing, Murdoc couldn’t see much else. 

“Oh don’t go crying,” Murdoc chuckled, “I can be decent company.”

He gently tugged at his shirt collar and shook his shirt to loosen it from the sweat slicking his back and chest. It felt overly warm being in his jacket despite how cool it was. Regardless he remained seated in the bushes. He peered through the leaves once more, watching the government officials spread over the area. It was clear they were some sort of government group given all of them, aside the hazmat people, were in black suits. 

“Wonder if they’re special agents, wouldn’t that be wild? Gonna be a government cover up.” 

With his focus so in tune to the black suits spreading over the crash site like a tidal wave, he nearly missed the crunch of underbrush. Whipping around, Murdoc caught sight of a suit making his way closer, too close. 

“Shit.”

Turning, Murdoc crawled awkwardly to the covered alien and began brushing the leaves and branches off it. 

“Looks like we need to move.”

Scooping under the armpits, Murdoc clenched his jaw and started to lift and tug yet again. His shoulder protested the movement and he faltered a moment. It took forcing his tired body to move, and then some, for him to continue. He smothered his grunts of exertion by breathing harder through his busted nose. 

The further they got the less noise from the nearby crash site that could be heard. Murdoc closed his eyes as he gave one last effort filled pull of the body before collapsing hard into the dirt and leaves. They were in the thick of it, completely invisible to wandering eyes. He huffed as he attempted to gulp air in, lungs straining.

He looked through the trees and underbrush to catch movement of suits or lights, but none came. Still, Murdoc hovered around the alien’s prone body hesitant to leave after the close call. It was his discovery and he deserved to have _all_ the glory.

Murdoc huffed as he finally regulated his breathing. With a small cough he wandered the length of the alien, squinting in the dark. 

“You’re massive,” Murdoc noted out loud. “Where the hell would I hide you?”

He paused at the strange bare feet and sighed. It was late, probably past midnight at that point. He felt the beginnings of exhaustion trickling into his overexerted muscles. There was no fondness at the prospect of spending a night in the cold just to protect his prize. Instead of mulling it over, Murdoc dug his fags out and got one lit. He took long drags, exhaling softly. There was no right or wrong way to this situation, no matter how he approached it. 

“Wonder why you crashed here, seems rather unfortunate. Humans are a nasty lot,” he mused. “You’re lucky **I** found you, otherwise who knows what’d happen to yeah.”

The atmosphere was filled with the subtle noise of Murdoc inhaling more nicotine. 

“I guess I’ll stick around till it’s safe, not like I have a choice now. Fucking government trying to get their grubby paws on everything.”

It took him a moment to stub out the cigarette and get comfortable in the dirt beside the alien. Shortly following that Murdoc shifted and shivered. There was a cold sensation seeping up through his backside thanks to the cool ground. He grumbled and tucked his legs up and rested his chin on a knee.

Staring off into the muted darkness of early twilight, Murdoc yawned after what seemed hours. He slumped partially and eyed the faint outline of trees around him without moving. Sneaking in after midnight would be tough. Sebastian would wake for his nightly piss and therefore be aware and capable of taking a swing at him; or worse, arguing about his lack of worth. 

Murdoc closed his eyes and willed his thoughts somewhere more positive. It mattered very little whether the drunkard was awake or not, he would be out of Stoke by the end of the week now. He didn’t need that retail job. 

He jerked at the sudden hoot of an owl. Looking around rapidly, Murdoc calmed himself when he spotted the creature flying off into the trees from overhead. 

“Christ.” 

He strained to see the still body of the extraterrestrial, which thankfully was present.

“I think I’ve babysat you long enough. Surely the suits have _sanctioned_ off whatever area they want.”

Standing he dusted himself off, immediately wincing at how raw his hands felt. Tucking them away to keep from injuring them further, Murdoc nudged the alien foot lightly.

“You sit tight, I’ll be around tomorrow to figure out the semantics.”

He chuckled to himself. Turning on his heels he began the journey home. It was a slight walk back to the areas he recognized, especially in the dark, but once on track he started grinning to himself. It was hard not to feel an amount of giddiness with what knowledge he held. A live, breathing alien, one from actual space. Granted he couldn’t be sure the alien would survive the night with wounds riddling its body. 

When his boots caught on the road home he relaxed, unaware he had grown tense. He should be concerned at potentially getting a matching bruise, but all he could think of was the dollar signs. 

Murdoc reached home in good time. He was pleased to see the front light was out, which signified the old man had turned in to bed early for once. It also meant, unfortunately, he had to break into his own home. His father didn’t trust him with a key and thus Murdoc often found himself jimmying the back window open just to get in. Tonight was one such night. He stumbled to the back through week old bags of garbage, hoping he did not alert the man upstairs. 

It was only a matter of jamming his pocket knife under the window and working the long broken window open. Sebastian never bothered with repairs if it cost more than a good bottle of beer; or a cheap one. Murdoc awkwardly crawled in through the kitchen window, angling himself to avoid piled garbage and the odd plate on the counter. Miraculously he managed to get onto his feet and closed the window. He took the moment, and moonlight, to quickly clean his ragged hands. He hissed as he cleaned them hastily in the kitchen sink, water hitting week old containers and rotting food. 

It had become so common living in squalor that he didn’t feel anything was out of place, but part of him realized how terrible the situation was. He didn’t dwell on the thought. He shook his hands of water since there was no tea towel and made his way upstairs to his room. He avoided the creaky steps and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the man still hadn’t arisen from the depth of his den. Murdoc quickly sealed himself in his room and wedged a chair beneath the door handle. Nearly twenty-two and he still wasn’t allowed privacy. He was sure there would be some kind of issue attached to that, but for now all Murdoc cared about was sleep. 

Dusty clothing hit the floor and he carefully dropped into his musty bed. It took a little bit to re-situate himself until he was comfortable. He stared at the ceiling and smiled to himself.

_Maybe there is some stock in wishing on shooting stars_ , he thought. He shook his head a moment later and closed his tired eyes. Sleep wasn’t immediate as Murdoc kept thinking of all the ways he could spend the phantom money. 

Tomorrow would be the start of something entirely new.


	2. It Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fated beginnings

His dreams were a swirl of pink and stars. He felt weightless as he floated among the fuchsia dots in the black vastness. The sound of a thumping, distant at first, caught his interest in the dream. Sound didn’t travel in space as far as he knew, it was blissful. There was a loud bang and Murdoc jerked, body flooding with adrenaline instantly. He looked around, head lifted from the musty pillow. Another sound found its way through the floor and he realized what he was hearing. He dropped his head back down.

Murdoc whined into his pillow when the unfortunate sound of Sebastian Niccals moving about the main floor emanated throughout the house. It was no later than six in the morning, which wasn’t uncommon for Sebastian given the man nearly never slept regular hours thanks to his constant alcohol abuse. It was horrid for Murdoc as suddenly he was acutely aware of his body and its aches. He felt fiercely dizzy with exhaustion and pain. Should he manage it, Murdoc would need a hefty dosing of painkillers. 

There was a shout from the kitchen and Murdoc huffed into his pillow. He could just imagine his father finding some residue blood or dirt from his late night break-in. Any minute and the man would probably come stomping to Murdoc’s room, pound on the door in some belligerent manner, demanding he clean it up. He could easily argue back that it was absurd he needed to  _ break _ into his own bloody home, that he should be given a spare key. Another part of him realized the pointlessness of arguing with any intelligence against someone who clearly lacked it. He mentally counted down the seconds until Sebastian felt the need to make his presence known. 

Murdoc knew to ignore the man and sneak out after the other was passed out in his favourite chair. The only piece of furniture in the living room given the man sold everything over the years to make a quick pound. 

The tell-tale stomping came shortly after a momentary silence and Murdoc groaned. He shifted and lazily dragged his pillow over his head, waiting for Sebastian to make his ruckus. He mentally put himself elsewhere. No matter how used to the situation he felt there always came a blip of unease whenever it involved Sebastian Niccals. He paused his counting at thirty-four when the pounding came. His door handle was rattled. He refused to acknowledge the trickle of fear that ran through his sore limbs.

“Ye’ left a mess in the kitchen ye’ little piss-ant.”

Murdoc rolled his eyes and held the pillow over his head tighter. It always felt like he was five again. His own personal hell on Earth.

“Well?” Sebastian rattled his already loose door handle yet again. The chair wedged against it miraculously held. “Ye’ gonna clean it up?”

He figured by the time he hit adulthood that he would have been out of this dump, or at the least able to have some autonomy from his father. Clearly Sebastian thought otherwise given the man treated him like he was still a child. He felt… small.

“Answer me!”

He sighed heavily into the sheets and held the pillow firm over his head still. He willed the older man to leave him be, to just give up and go get miserably drunk… or die, that was another pleasant option. Somehow the old man avoided death and Murdoc loathed the other for it. 

He jerked when Sebastian kicked his door abruptly. 

“When I get back ye’ better have cleaned the fucking mess.”

In his mind that meant Sebastian was planning on getting raging drunk to watch old films on the dinky television he owned. He could sneak in a couple hours of sleep before slipping out under the radar. 

He held his breath, waiting until he heard the forgiving sound of feet shuffling away. Once assured Sebastian had gone downstairs, Murdoc shifted his pillow back under his head and sighed. It took a good stretch of time before he finally felt himself drifting off, exhaustion pushing him back into blissful unconsciousness. 

- - -

Waking with a start, Murdoc looked around the room, his vision a blur with grogginess. He tried to sit up, wincing at the shooting pains in his torso. He forced himself past the discomfort to sit upright. What little light seeped in through the thick curtains told him it was still day.

With slow movements he eased out of bed and began working through the motions of finding semi-clean clothing and dressing. He scooped up his boots and cautiously removed the chair from his door. Peering out into the hall he listened for his father. Neither the tv or snoring could be heard, the house was dead quiet. It immediately put him on edge so he quickly tugged his boots on and slipped out of the room. 

Once his door was shut he paused to listen again waiting to hear if there was movement in the home. It was painfully quiet and Murdoc was growing anxious standing around. He awkwardly tip-toed to the stairs and stepped down them, missing each step that waned. He miraculously made it to the front entry unscathed. Stopped there at the small entry way he realized he still had bad pains all over. He silently detoured his way into the dingy kitchen to sift through the cabinets. He hastily snatched a bottle of paracetamol and popped two, swallowing dry before he tossed the bottle back. He moved and yanked the fridge door open. Eyeing the contents, Murdoc grimaced while grabbing a beer. 

“Bottoms up,” he muttered. He chugged the beverage and chucked the can somewhere in the sorry excuse of a kitchen. From there he made his escape, happy to make it out without an altercation. 

Outside he breathed a deep relieving breath, eagerly making ground in quick strides. It looked to be midday, which would explain the absence of his father. The man was notorious for skulking around the local pubs for hours. Murdoc hardly cared to know what Sebastian Niccals did in his spare time and so pushed the man from his mind to focus on his path. It was a decent walk from home to the rough location he had stashed the large alien. Approximately twenty-five to thirty minutes of walking if he had to guess, but well worth it.

Passing residential places, similar in shape and size to his own home, Murdoc idly hummed a tune. The painkillers were kicking in and the pain of the past night faded with each step. Today was going to be a good day, he could feel it.

His journey was interrupted half ways when his stomach gurgled unpleasantly. Murdoc groaned quietly to himself. He hadn’t eaten since last night, not properly. Save a few stale crackers and a can of beer, Murdoc wasn’t going to push through his day without something a little more substantial. His strides faltered as he considered the shops, much closer than before. It would be easy to just nab what he wanted with his  _ special _ discount and be on his way. His eagerness to reach his prize had him dawdling until finally he grunted and wandered towards a small market. He would be in and out.

The market was bustling with midday activity so he ducked around patrons. It took a little work to avoid the wandering eyes of staff members, but he managed. He stopped off in a snack food aisle and eyed the products. He wasn’t a picky person, whatever staved off the clawing hunger was usually enough. Snatching a bag of crisps, and a small container of nuts that he stashed away inside his coat, Murdoc turned and stalked towards the exit. It didn’t take long for a staff member to notice he hadn’t paid. They immediately began to follow him. 

It was never so easy for him.

Murdoc picked up his pace and rushed out of the place not a minute later, a large bag of crisps desperately grasped in his hand. The staff member chased him as far as the front entry before hollering that he better not come back. Many of the patrons around the market looked towards him so he hunched his shoulders. With an irritated scowl he flipped them off and hastily got himself back on track towards his destination, snack in hand.

He tore the bag open and munched on the contents while he strode through town. It wasn’t enough food, but for his purposes it would suffice; and later he could enjoy some salted peanuts or whatever it was he had grabbed. 

The hustle of the town melted away into an industrial area. He eyed the large buildings in and around the road he was walking. Men and women were working within some of the loading bays of some buildings, a few were moving big cases of product. Murdoc tensed when he spotted a familiar face from the pub. He ducked his head and hurried beyond the place. He didn’t need his dad knowing where he disappeared to, not that he necessarily expected the man to inform his father, but the fear was there. 

When the road ended and dirt started, Murdoc relaxed his shoulders. He gave them a roll as he followed a well worn path down. The path was a local route for teenagers looking to do illegal substances in the privacy of the tree line. Nobody around the industrial area cared to complain and Murdoc only knew of it thanks to a past involving himself with said drugs. Today, however, he took a sharp right at the bottom of the small hill and headed straight into the forest. 

The journey was uncomfortable and more times than he could count, Murdoc found himself cursing. He kept getting branches in his face or tripping on roots. The further in he traveled the more he expected to see some prone figure laying out on the grassy floor of the forest, bruised and pink. He slowed as he scanned the area, still moving though a little slower. He was sure this was the general place he had stored the alien, at least it looked similar to the place, but then it had been pretty dark and the forest looked the same everywhere he looked.

Murdoc came to a full halt when he saw disturbed leaves and flattened moss in a small space between the trees. There was a discoloured stain on the moss in the general location that the arm wound had been located. He stared, heart rate immediately increasing. The alien was gone.

He looked this way and that trying to spot any other disturbances in the soil and bushes, signs that the suits had potentially found his  _ prize _ , his ticket out of Stoke. Nothing stuck out as recently disrupted. There was always the chance the alien had awoken and wandered off itself, but Murdoc felt the injuries were too grave for that. 

Swallowing quietly he approached the space, walking quieter and taking measured steps until he was standing where the extraterrestrial had been laying last night. Pausing, he listened, ears straining to pick up any sort of sound. It was silent except for the whisper of a light breeze slipping through the trees. He was so still he nearly felt he was part of the forest. Then he heard it, faint and nearly indiscernible among the slight ringing in his ears. Something was moving somewhere, near silently. Murdoc felt a strange, cold sweat develop at his temples and hairline. Something was watching him intently.

He began to turn on the spot looking for the perpetrator, but still all he saw was endless trees.

A tree to his right creaked as though something of great weight was causing it to wane to and fro. Murdoc shivered as goosebumps rose on his neck and his breath came out in softer huffs. He slowly turned his head, eyes roving over the tree for anything, but saw nothing. For all he knew this creature could hide in plain sight, he would never know. Nothing was in and around the tree and therefore he was safe; as far as he could tell. He exhaled shakily when he realised the wind had probably caused the tree to sway. He felt incredibly idiotic. He recalled reading something in school ages ago about the odd feeling of being watched and locations many people claimed to feel so, he was probably experiencing a phenomena. Incrementally he loosened his shoulders yet again. It seemed despite his best efforts someone had clearly found the alien, which left him at square one once more.

Rubbing sweat from his face he moved around, frustration bubbling up. It settled in his chest heavily and it made him feel irritated and useless. It felt like a painful reminder of all his shortcomings. He glared with deep scorn at the matted moss and blood stain, almost blaming the alien, of all things; for being captured or probably captured, Murdoc couldn’t be sure.

A cracking noise made him jump as a medium branch dropped past his face. He blinked and looked down at the branch, a curious frown enveloping his face. It was decently sized, not something that would just snap of its own volition and fall off a tree, especially during a moderately dreary, overcast day.

Like a rush, paranoia filled his body rapidly and he tilted his head upwards inch by inch. There the large creature hovered above him, nearly within arms reach of him, poised like a predator stalking prey. Large hands were gripped to the tree and what looked like large talons, dug into the bark. His breathing stuttered as it increased and he froze. Somewhere in his mind this had been a legitimate fear, coming face to face with a live monstrosity. 

It was massive. Murdoc stared into deep dark eyes unsure if movement would cause it to move. He clenched his sore palms as his adrenaline kicked into overdrive and sweat formed along his body. The creature moved, slow and calculated, down the tree and almost within reach of him. A small terrified noise slipped out of him and the alien halted to cock its head. Maybe his original plan would have worked better with a dead alien, though he faintly imagined a live one would be worth far more. The tree whined under the weight as the alien moved again and finally got close enough to hang in Murdoc’s face. Its blue hair stuck to a patch of dried blood at its forehead where it must have made friends with the console of the ship upon impact. Murdoc shifted his eyes from injury to one set of eyes to the next, uncertain where to look. 

Abruptly he caught sight of a hand moving away from the tree and reaching to touch him. Adrenaline fueled fear caused him to jerk away and hastily back himself up into a different tree. He huffed at slamming his back into it and quickly shifted away, opposite the alien. The creature twitched at his sudden movement, but otherwise observed him quietly until he stopped. It shifted and twisted some. In a great display of flexibility it brought its legs down first, nearly bending itself backwards in half. It easily held its weight until it finally dropped off the tree with a thump. It stood slowly, hulking in size and looked at Murdoc with a curious glint in its eyes. Despite the marks of injury the creature appeared no less steady on its feet. Murdoc wondered if he, someone painfully out of shape, would stand a chance of hoofing it should it give chase. He strongly doubted he’d manage to outrun it.

There was a soft breeze that blew around them and for a moment the alien turned, head tilted and ears perked. It appeared distracted by the sounds and Murdoc took it as an opportunity to flee. Maybe he was in over his head. What was he thinking trying to sell an  _ actual _ alien, a living, breathing alien? He moved around the tree and made a run for it. For the briefest of moments he was making distance between them until his boot caught on a rather large and unfortunately placed root. He yelped and met the ground roughly, getting a mouth full of dirt. He wheezed at a body rattling pain working through his chest and limbs. Slowly he rolled to his side and rubbed at his sore rib cage only to jerk in surprise at the alien hovering over him. He hadn’t even heard the creature move to follow him. 

Sore palms dug into the soil as he started to tug and awkwardly wiggle his way away from the alien, desperately trying to create space. Its frame blocked most of the sunlight, casting a decent sized shadow on Murdoc. It also seemed to realize he was scared and hunched down on all six so it seemed less imposing. Murdoc got himself partially elevated and scooted further back until he made contact with another tree. The creature followed, crawling forward while lifting a palm. It held itself upwards on three powerful arms while extending another as though asking for Murdoc to take it.

“Hi, yeah,” Murdoc blurted, “I don’t want your hand, mate.”

The alien flinched back when he spoke and its ears flattened a little as it watched his face. They both sat there, still, a moment before it got dangerously close to him, examining him intently. Murdoc held his breath as he stared into inky eyes, barely seeing small specks that were lighter than the sclera. His heart pounded fast and hard, almost to a point he couldn’t hear beyond the noise. It blinked two sets of eyelids and tilted its head. If he had to guess, the alien was studying him like he was it. 

“Uh— You speak?”

It pulled back some, head partly cocked to examine his mouth. Its thin mouth parted, but nothing came out. Murdoc caught sight of pale nearly translucent teeth, sharp teeth.

“N—never mind, you don’t gotta say nothing,” Murdoc swallowed, eyes flicking over the lanky expanse of pink and grey. “You, uh— you crashed… got a few injuries too.”

There was a moment of hesitation before the alien grabbed at the unblemished side of his face a little roughly. An uncomfortable burst of sensation filled his head upon skin contact, stretching to push his thoughts aside as if to leave his mind empty. He winced, his vision becoming fuzzy when images of the ship poured in, an urgent slightly questioning feeling tagging along. He drew his brows in tight, not entirely coherent enough to grasp what was being asked of him. He felt a pressure building and he began to develop a thrumming headache. 

“Gone, it’s gone,” he gasped. He shoved the pink hand from his face. He held his head with a pained noise. “They took your ship late last night, clearly. Why the hell would I have it?”

Seemingly not understanding his words the creature made a slight grunting noise. It parted its lips to make strange wispy sounds similar to that of the wind. Murdoc eyed the alien, waiting for words to pour out, but all he got were more odd breathy noises. It stopped and tilted its head, eyes alight while it waited.

“Erm, nice trick?”

Parting its lips yet again, Murdoc waiting nervously. It breathed out whispers and a few clicking sounds, nothing that he could understand. When it noticed Murdoc’s lack of response it gave a small disgruntled sound, similar to a horse. One of its hands gingerly prodded its own throat before pointing at Murdoc in the form of some sort of question. Murdoc eyed the slender throat then the face again.

“I don’t even know what you’re trying to say.”

Clear frustration enveloped it’s strange yet ethereal face and it came forward once more. Having shifted from one set of arms to another it lifted one to reach for him. Murdoc jerked back into the tree when the alien attempted to touch him. Upon seeing the reaction the alien pulled its palm towards itself and huffed out. Murdoc could, at the least, understand it’s urgency. He wondered if he could teach it some English, and probably hike the price up if he did.

“You need your ship? I already said it’s banged up, not to mention there’s suits crawling all over.”

Dismayed the alien pulled back, eyes projecting a great anxiety. It was clear it still didn’t understand Murdoc, and likewise, he didn’t understand the large creature. Murdoc used the moment of peace and space to get to his feet. His palms caught on the bark and he hissed. He shook his hands slightly. 

“We need to get out of here,” Murdoc muttered. He looked around the forest past the crouched alien. “C’mon you overgrown monster.”

The alien eyed him suspiciously when he motioned it to follow him. 

“Let’s go.” Murdoc motioned more enthusiastically.

With the immediate danger subsiding, Murdoc was growing increasingly irritated with the alien. He felt gestures should be universal or at least easy enough to understand. He stood to the side and exhaled loudly, annoyed. The alien rose from being hunched down on all six to stand properly, once more towering over him. He cleared his throat as the nervous butterflies came back. The alien looked in the direction of the crash site, at a distance now and nowhere near visible. His anxiety from being potentially crushed was replaced with nervous fear the creature would slip from his hold. Murdoc hastily moved to stand in front of the alien and waved his hands.

“C’mon mate, there’s no use going off that way. You’re asking to get caught.”

The creature looked upwards through the trees, seemingly contemplating something. Murdoc cleared his throat to draw its attention back to himself. It seemed unsure of trusting Murdoc and stood there, appearing to weigh its options. It didn’t get long to mull things over.

“Look, you’re gonna need to trust me.” Murdoc made a shooing motion, hoping the alien would get the message. 

The alien exhaled in a manner that sounded annoyed and stepped around him. Murdoc growled indignantly. He whipped around and quickly stalked after the hulking pink creature. 

“And just where do you think you’re going, huh? Are you planning to reveal some weird alien ability and take out a small armada of heavily armed government officials? I mean you can certainly try,” Murdoc huffed as he trailed the longer strides, catching up. “You’ll die, but please make it worth my while to watch.”

There was another disgruntled noise from the pink monster and Murdoc rolled his eyes, capable of understanding that it was irritated. His fears drew further away the longer they trudged. He was becoming more incensed at the lack of comprehension, he would need to find some way to communicate the danger more thoroughly. 

“Listen here pal,” Murdoc snarled, once more putting himself in the alien’s path and halting it. “You won’t get far alright? They will kill you or detain, either or, both options are pretty shit if you ask me.”

The creature cocked its head at him and the four eyes narrowed. Agitation was rolling off the being in waves and Murdoc grumbled. He attempted to stand his ground, stay firm with the alien. Since there seemed a language barrier, Murdoc wracked his brain for a better approach. 

He cleared his throat and pointed in the direction of the crash site. The alien looked the way he pointed. Murdoc turned his head to look at it again, waiting till it looked at him. They both eyed each other intently. “Danger. Bad.”

When it was clear the alien was struggling to understand Murdoc huffed and lowered his hand. He brought up his other hand and made a throat slicing action with his thumb jabbed towards his own neck. “Danger.”

Spotted lips parted, “dahnheh”

Murdoc blinked, astonished. He had enough intelligence to understand the alien was trying to repeat him. Maybe this plan was working. 

“Yeah,  _ danger _ ,” Murdoc commented idly. The alien scrutinized him and lifted one of its own hands up and made the same gesture Murdoc had done, sliding a finger across its neck. A strange bubble of elation filled him. “Yes! Yes, that means  **danger** , it means bad.”

The pink creature pointed towards the crash site and repeated the motion with a hand, slicing across its neck. “Dahnheh.”

“It’s… yeah that’s close enough. Danger.” 

It dropped its hands back to its sides and snuffed loudly. Murdoc stood there in silence with it unsure how to interpret the noise. It was quiet for a long couple minutes before it rolled its shoulders and once more side stepped him. Murdoc exhaled in exasperation.

“You’re persistent, but lucky for you  _ so am I _ .”

Murdoc trailed the alien, all the while scanning the surroundings for anything that would work in his display. He settled on some leaves which he ripped off a bush and hurried to cut the giant creature off. The alien growled, a dangerous, low sound that slipped from it’s clenched mouth.

“Oi, don’t get pissy with me, I’m actually trying to  _ help _ here,” Murdoc snapped. 

He held up a leaf to the alien. The extraterrestrial took it with a minute shift in its expression. Murdoc sighed and pointed the direction the alien kept trying to go. 

“You go there and you’ll get yourself killed, me too if I’m spotted around you.”

He made sure the alien was watching him as he pointed urgently and then held his own leaf up in his other palm. The four eyes twitched a little, the only indication it was looking where Murdoc kept drawing its attention. 

“Danger.” He crushed the leaf viciously. 

It seemed to have the desired effect as a quick micro expression passed over the patterned face. Murdoc dropped the remains of the leaf and pointed insistently again as he reached towards the leaf the alien had pinched between two fingers. 

“ _ Danger _ ,” he said and snatched the leaf, tearing it in half, and crushed it in his palm. 

“Dahnger”

“Yes.”

The alien slumped partly and dropped the partial leaf to the ground. It exhaled heavily and looked longingly towards the way to its ship. Finally after an age the creature nodded solemnly, seemingly understanding what he was saying. 

“Good.”

Murdoc lowered his arms and moved around the alien, careful to avoid hitting the other. 

“Follow me.” 

There was a hesitation from the alien before it ducked its head and began to follow him quietly. He silently cheered. His heart was caught in his throat over the intense moment and the knowledge he now had to hide the seven foot creature. It took a short while to backtrack to where they had met and a little longer for Murdoc to wrack his mind for a place. The forest was home to a few places viable for hiding the thing so he slowly deviated them towards one location he knew. 

The alien lagged behind a fair amount and Murdoc found himself stopping and going frequently. Now that the creature seemed aware its ship was unobtainable, currently, it now drew its attention to studying every single thing they passed. In any other circumstances Murdoc would have been happy to oblige, I mean an intelligent monster from space knowing human things? That would fetch good money, at least in his mind it would. Nothing about the situation was normal though and there was a lingering anxiety they would be spotted. Murdoc urgently wanted the pink thing hidden from prying eyes so whatever impromptu Earth lessons the thing wanted needed to stop. 

“Look,” Murdoc started when he had to stop for the tenth time. “I’ll fill you in once we’re not standing around the forest, okay? You can ask your--”

A branch of berries were shoved in his face abruptly. 

“Nn?” 

Murdoc was quickly coming to associate the sound with  _ ‘what are these?’ _ despite no true exchange of words or expressions happening.

“Berries, okay? Christ.” 

He whacked the branch from his face and frowned. The creature eyed him, its expression semi-open with interest. 

“Follow. Don’t make me ask again.” 

It took a couple minutes but soon they were on the move again. Murdoc breathed a sigh of relief when he realized the alien was finally listening or at the least appearing so. 

They walked up a slight embankment, Murdoc pausing to look at the road for traffic. There were no cars in either direction so he motioned the alien hastily and darted across the road. The monster of a creature mimicked him and took large strides to keep up with him. Once in the shroud of more trees, Murdoc relaxed and directed them towards a rickety little shack hidden in the trees. It was one of many locations he kept bookmarked in his head for hiding when avoiding his father or goons he owed money from the local pubs until shit blew over. 

He approached the building and halted near the door to glance at the pink alien who was paused a few meters away. 

“What?”

“Nn?”

Some part of him knew the alien scarcely understood him, but with no other form of communicating available he chose to talk. He didn’t wholly care that the creature didn’t understand him either. 

“Shelter. It’s where you’ll be staying. Le château de Niccals. Get in,” he commanded. 

There was a hesitation in the creature. Murdoc rolled his eyes and pushed the door open with some effort. He gestured in with a sweeping motion of his arm. 

“C’mom, it’s a not that bad. You’ll get used to the smell.” 

With growing impatience, Murdoc gave another motion of his arm and the alien slowly slunk over. It eventually went into the small shack. He closed the door behind them and dusted his hands of the sludge from the door.

The sloping roof was just tall enough in the middle for the creature to stand to its full height. Murdoc swallowed, pushing his nerves down at the image of the towering form. 

“You’re gonna stay here.”

The alien peered at him quizzically, or what Murdoc assumed was quizzical given the thing didn’t seem to emote openly or much. He pointed to the floor and the creature eyed the floor.

“Stay put. Do not go outside, danger.”

The speckled face looked at him, strange breathy voice echoing him, “dahngr.” 

It was a very weak start to communicating, but a start none-the-less. It would be like speaking to an inept child with a bare-minimum grasp on language.  


“Yes, danger.”

The alien turned from him to examine the space he was hoping to house it. Until Murdoc figured out things with transport and just who to turn the creature over to it would be a pseudo home to the thing. It wasn’t much, but it, like the factory the alien had destroyed, was almost a home away from home for Murdoc. It had a rickety little wood burning stove in the corner, a rotting side table with one jammed drawer and a sagging bed with musty blankets shoved into the corner. It was good enough for a seven foot alien.

For a moment they both stood in silence until the alien huffed and sat itself down on the wooden floor. It looked sort of despondent. Murdoc tucked his hands away and took a deep breath to ease his rather frayed nerves. He realized there was the matter of food and potentially other amenities he would need to bring to the creature, all without being spotted. Plus the anxiety of having to trust the creature to  _ actually _ stay in the shack like he wanted it to. 

“You stay here, I’ve gotta figure some shit out for you.”

Before the creature could protest, if it even planned so, Murdoc hurriedly opened the door and slid out. He wedged it shut again and exhaled heavily. 

It would be worth it to keep the creature alive and content, at least until he had a means to sell it. Murdoc grinned to himself as he pushed off the door and started up towards the road once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my chapter update schedule will be every 2 months or a little shorter depending on my energy and time with f/t work. Thank you for giving this a read :D


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